Bedside
by SpocksEyebrows
Summary: Everyday he leaves the hospital the receptionist smiles sadly at him and says, "See you tomorrow, Dean." But then one day, she says, "Goodbye, Dean," instead.


The receptionist smiles sadly at him as he signs in on the blank white paper. He's the first one here today, as has become the usual. "One day, dear" she says, handing him a visitors badge, "you're gonna be able to stay here all night. They'll pass that law, don't you worry now."

He smiles thinly, as most of his smiles are these days. His eyes are empty as he waves a short goodbye to the woman. It's not really goodbye though, he'll see her tonight when he signs out and she'll say, "See you tomorrow, Dean", and so has been the routine.

The doctors avoid eye contact with him on purpose now but he sees the flash of pity on their faces whenever they pass him. The hallways are silent at six in the morning, doctors and nurses who had night duty move towards the changing rooms to switch into other clothes. There are a few other visitors here as well, the ones that have the privilege of staying all night and they cradle hot coffees in their hands as they rub their eyes. If he could stay all night, he'd never take breaks by the vending machine. He'd sleep in that uncomfortable chair all night if it meant he could stay.

He comes to a pause outside room 227 and takes a deep breath before easing the door open.

"Dean." There's a tsunami of emotions in the one word, relief, pain, sadness, and hope all at once. There are more emotions as well that Dean can't even recognize.

"Cas," he says and his face splits into the first real smile since he was here yesterday. It's not the big smile he used to have, it's not the one that would make Cas' stomach flip. No, this smile is a little bit sweet and a little bit sad because Dean knows this is it. Cas knows it too and so his stomach stays still, void of any flips but filled with sadness.

Dean moves towards the bed and removes the flowers from the vase on the night-table. He tosses the bouquet into the bin and replaces them with fresh lilies. A slight cough escapes his mouth, gruff and tense, and Cas knows he's holding back tears. "Dean, you don't have to bring new flowers every day, they don't wilt that fast," he says, placing a hand gently on the small of Dean's back.

"No, you deserve to see new beauty like that every day. I don't give a damn if it's wasteful, you deserve it." Dean sits down on the edge of the bed and toys with the hem of the sheet. "I just, I'm sorry, you know? I'm so sorry, Cas," his voice cracks and he can't look Cas in the eyes.

Cas looks alarmed, Dean's never said that before. Usually he comes in and they talk about the good times and the future they'll have together even though they both know there is no future. "What are you sorry for?"

"It's my fault, it's my damn fault for all of this," Dean says, "You'd have your grace if it weren't for me. I should've stayed in hell, Cas, you should have left me there. You could have been okay."

"Don't say that. Do not say that, Dean. If it weren't for you, I'd still be a toy soldier who didn't know how to feel anything. I know what life is and even though it puts you in situations like this sometimes, I wouldn't trade anything for my life with you."

Dean looks over at him, tears just starting to come to life in his eyes. A sudden phone buzz causes Dean to jolt. He grabs the phone from his pocket. "Hello?" his voice is still a bit rusty but he pulls himself together.

"Dean, I hate to call you, I really do, but I need your help on this one." It's Sam. He's been working the cases alone since all this had happened.

Cas lays a cold, fragile hand on Dean's arm causing Dean to look over at him. "Go, Dean, help out Sam. You kinda owe it to him, he's been on all these cases on his own lately. I'll be right here, don't worry."

"Yeah, okay, I'll be there in a minute," Dean says, snapping the phone shut. He looks over at Cas, "You sure?"

Cas nods and Dean plants a quick kiss to his forehead before standing up. "I'll be back before you know it." He says and leaves, giving Cas one more smile.

When he arrives at the old warehouse, the first thing Dean sees is Sam lying on the ground, eyes shut. Dean rushes over to him, "Sammy? Sammy?"

Sam stirs and Dean breathes a sigh of relief, "Dean? What are you doing here?" Sam's eyebrows knit together as his rubs his eyes awake.

"What the hell do you mean? You called me."

"No, I didn't. I'd never call you for this, it's was just a quick case."

"Dammit," Dean shouts, "What were you chasing?"

"Shapeshif- Oh damn." Sam's voice drops as he realizes.

"What? What happened? You gank it?"

"Dean, I didn't call you. I think the shapeshifter called you, as me."

"No, no, no, no," Dean says kicking the wall of the warehouse, "Dammit!" His phone buzzing breaks his string of curse words. He scrambles to get it out of his pocket, Sam watching him uneasily. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Winchester, we thought you might want to get back to the hospital. Castiel isn't in the best of conditio-" but that's all Dean needs to hear before he racing out of the building and gunning the engine.

When he runs up to Cas' room he has to shove through a group of doctors.

One of them turns to him sadly, "We're very sorry, Mr. Winchester."

"No, no, no," Dean is shouting, shoving everyone else aside. His knees buckle at Cas' bedside as he grips his cold, cold hand, "You wake up, right now! WAKE UP."

One of the nurses lightly puts their hand on his shoulder but he hits away. Slowly, the rest of the doctors trickle out of the room, leaving Dean alone with only the dull, flat hum of the heart monitor to keep him company.

Later, after visiting hours end and a nurse tells him he can't stay anymore, he pulls himself off the bed and grabs his jacket from the chair. He walks slowly now, unlike the morning when he'd sped up to see Cas. The receptionist watches him as he signs out and then, without a smile, she says, "Goodbye, Dean."


End file.
